O Captain, My Captain
by Lady Androgene
Summary: TezuRyo. Tezuka discovers what it means to be fifteen and hormonal when Fuji aids Echizen in a declamation contest and enlists Tezuka as human props. Complete
1. Chapter 1: Dilemma

**Warnings**: Tezuka and hyperactive hormones. May contain a certain degree of OOC-ness. Suspension of disbelief is advisable.

**Disclaimer:** Not mine. Konomi Takeshi's.

**Chapter 1: Dilemma **

Tezuka was seriously disturbed.

He had been on the edge as of late, his tiny array of visible facial expressions becoming slightly less subtle, the mildest of aggravations turning his nerves to hot wires. He frequently found himself stopping in his tracks and staring at some uninteresting object or another, then snapping out of his daze and resuming his walk.

He had a problem, of that there could be no doubt. Of course Tezuka, being the organized, calculating person that he was, had expected of himself to pinpoint the problem, analyze it, and get it out of his system as if it never happened. As he always did.

Not this time though.

The problem wasn't extraordinary, really. Everyone went through it.

"It's called hormones, Tezuka," Oishi informed him gently, after one particularly grueling practice session, wherein Tezuka gave out twice the usual number of laps, and punished anyone who dared question his well-being —classifying their concerns as 'discussing irrelevant things during practice.'

"I know that," Tezuka admitted. "And I understand it completely. What I don't understand is…"

When Tezuka didn't continue, Oishi frowned in concern. "Is what?" he prodded gently. He hesitated briefly before adding, "Or is it a 'who?'"

Tezuka didn't answer.

Suddenly, the locker room door burst open and the trio of Echizen, Momoshiro and Kikumaru walked in. As usual, the latter two had latched on to either of their kouhai's arms, bugging him about his turn to treat his senpais for once.

"I said no, senpai."

"But Ochibi, we always treat you!" Kikumaru protested, grabbing the freshman in one of his deadly bear hugs. "It's only fair, nya!"

"I'm broke." Echizen managed to muffle out through the arms wrapped around his throat.

"Yeah right. We all know that your family's got a Swiss bank account!" Momoshiro countered, accentuating his words with a tug at Echizen's left arm, which worsened Echizen's breathing problem as Kikumaru's hug pulled him in the opposite direction.

"My… family… not… me…." Echizen rasped, his face turning an alarming shade of blue. "Eiji-senpai… can't… breathe…"

Tezuka stood up, his expression stern. "Momoshiro, Kikumaru."

The two players almost jumped when they heard their names and noticed the presence of the captain and vice-captain for the first time.

"Tezuka-buchou…" Momo stammered, a giant sweatdrop meandering down the side of his head.

Tezuka's voice was severe. "Release Echizen now. Both of you. Then run twenty laps."

"H-hai!"

They quickly let go of Echizen and sprinted out the locker room, a trail of smoke in their wake.

As soon as they were gone, Tezuka turned to the recovering freshman. "Are you alright, Echizen?" he asked, allowing a hint of concern to lace his voice.

Echizen rubbed the side of his neck as his breathing returned to normal. "I think so," he answered quietly, a small smile gracing his lips. "Thanks, Buchou."

That one tiny smile produced an influx of internal reactions within Tezuka. Before he could stop himself, some of his latent protective instincts kicked in as he stepped forward and spoke the next words. "If they bother you again, just tell me and I'll take care of it."

Echizen looked at him in mild incredulity. "You mean it, Buchou?"

"Of course."

"Okay, I'll do that," Echizen said, looking like he'd been given an early Christmas present. "Thanks." Then he brushed past Tezuka and headed towards the showers.

Tezuka felt a smile of his own starting to form on his lips at Echizen's sincere appreciation, but he managed to keep it at bay. He was about to sit down when he suddenly caught Oishi's thoughtful gaze.

His brow furrowed. "What is it, Oishi?"

Oishi didn't answer and just looked at him strangely for a few seconds. Then his green eyes widened as if suddenly enlightened.

That was when Tezuka realized his actions went beyond their normal boundaries.

He cursed himself inwardly. Life was unfair. To any other person, those words and gesticulations would be nothing out of the ordinary, but for those who knew Tezuka, it was a solid declaration of his innermost thoughts.

He saw Oishi's smile take a knowing turn, and he felt a sudden urge to douse his head in cold water. Really, of all times to act improperly in front of Seigaku's mother hen…

He sighed, not bothering to hide his insecurity. Why bother? Oishi already saw through him.

At least Echizen seemed pleased. He wondered if it was adequate recompense for Oishi's newfound knowledge.

Oishi waited until he heard the telltale sign of the shower spigot turning on before speaking. "Well, Tezuka. For once, I really can't help you there," he said, that infuriating knowing smile still on his face. "This is one of those things you have to solve on your own."

Oh, he knew _that_long before Oishi told him. The thing was, he didn't have the vaguest idea on what to do. Thus, he could only wait 'til the solution presented itself to him.

However, it seemed that fate was hellbent on being unkind to him, for he never did get around to solving the 'problem.' He realized later that there really was no solution—he could only address and _indulge_in the problem itself, assuming he got the chances to. This having been discovered when he found himself on the wrong end of one of Fuji's 'conversations' (which in Fuji talk, would be subtly pressuring his victim to spill out his subconscious on account of said victim's own volition), in the wrong place and time…

"Ne, Tezuka, Echizen sure is giving you a run for your money," Fuji casually commented as he fixed his things.

"Hn." Tezuka tensed slightly at the mention of the freshman's name, but he recovered quickly. "He still has much to learn."

"Saa… that's true." Fuji's usual closed-eyed smile graced his dainty features, and his voice was mild and unassuming, but Tezuka couldn't help feeling slightly perturbed. "But he's not taking his merry time though. According to Inui's data, at the rate Echizen is going, he'll surpass you in a couple of years. Less even."

"I know."

"Of course. You seem to know a lot about him."

Tezuka glanced at him sideways, mistrustful of the direction the conversation was going. "I should. I'm his captain."

"_His _captain." Fuji cradled his chin in his palm and glanced at the ceiling. "Now, why did that sound a little bit… strange."

"…"

So Fuji knew. He really wasn't surprised that Fuji was now also getting on his case. Everything and everyone was transparent to Fuji's cryptic gaze. But he also knew that wherever Fuji made himself concerned, things become more complicated than they should be.

"Oh, speaking of the devil, here he is."

Tezuka fought his knee-jerk reaction to whip around quickly to see the object of his hormonal frustrations, and took his time to glance behind him.

Then he immediately wished he hadn't.

Echizen Ryoma, all freshly showered with only a shabby white towel, which, Tezuka noticed, couldn't be much wider than a fig leaf, wrapped around his waist, emerged from the shower room.

"Sorry if the towel is a bit small, Echizen. It's the only extra I have," Fuji called out apologetically.

"It's okay, Fuji-senpai. Thanks for lending it to me." Echizen answered, running a hand through his wet hair. "Though I really can't understand why my towel disappeared all of a sudden…" He shook his head and strode over towards where the two of them were sitting. Then he stopped and focused a quizzical gaze on Tezuka, who was, at the moment, reminding himself to breathe.

"Buchou, you're sitting on my stuff."

"Oh. I'm sorry." Tezuka quickly scooted over, revealing the rumpled mess of the freshman's garments. A wave of embarrassment at having behaved so carelessly rushed through him. He made a mental note to run twenty laps later.

"It doesn't matter." Echizen then proceeded to retrieve his clothes, his shoulder brushing slightly against Tezuka's.

Tezuka's breath hitched at Echizen's nearness. Echizen smelled like a mix of standard issue soap and citrus, a scent that was doing uncomfortable things to a certain area inside Tezuka's pants. He wondered what brand of shampoo Echizen used, then mentally slapped himself for even entertaining such a thought. _Make that forty laps. _

Fuji watched them for a moment before getting up. "Saa, I'd better be going," he announced, his expression amused. "I'll leave the rest to you, Tezuka." He swung his racket bag around his shoulder and ambled towards the door. As he reached for the knob, he turned slightly towards them, an obscure smile on his face. "Don't keep Buchou waiting, Echizen." Then he stepped out of the room and walked out.

Maybe it was just Tezuka's imagination but he swore he heard a soft, sadistic chuckle as the door closed. He now had a sneaking suspicion as to where Echizen's towel mysteriously disappeared to.

"I won't take long, Buchou," Echizen assured him, as he picked up a pair of… playboy-bunny-patterned boxers. Tezuka's confusion must've been evident on his face because Echizen explained. "It's a gift from oyaji."

"I see." _Echizen Nanjiroh sure has peculiar taste,_he thought, inadvertently checking out Echizen's fine-looking collarbone.

"You don't mind if I change here, ne Buchou?"

Without thinking, Tezuka replied a quick "No, go ahe—"

The rest of his words died on his throat as Echizen suddenly turned his back on him and dropped the tiny piece of cloth that had served as Tezuka's link to sanity, revealing a very nice posterior.

He quickly turned around in a fit of panicked modesty, feeling the blood pound in his ears. Of course, with his luck, he completely forgot that there was a mirror, ruthlessly positioned at an angle calculated for strategic viewing, exactly where his eyes had averted, and that he could see the whole reverse strip tease that Echizen was performing quite clearly.

Instantly, a great foreign heat shot to different parts of body—his face, his ears, his hands, his—

_Oh. Damn._

He knew it was bound to happen sooner or later. He was a healthy and virile boy of fifteen, and he had read enough biology books to warn him of this occurring.

But still… he was shocked, not to mention, ihorrified/i at himself. Of all the times _it_ had to happen, it had to be in an arrangement where the very source of _it_was just an arm's length away, therefore reducing his self-control to a dubious attempt to listen to his conscience (which sounded as if it was speaking to him from under a great big boulder).

The unbelievable tightness in his pants was becoming unbearable, and he knew that things would get unimaginably worse if he didn't relieve it quickly.

But he couldn't, not with Echizen still there. So he bore the pain and grabbed his bag to cover the results of his gratuitous ogling, fervently hanging on to the thinning thread of reason in his mind. If Echizen had the slightest idea of the danger he was in, he would've been out the door before one can say "Mada mada da ne," dressed or not.

When Echizen finally finished and left (but not before thanking Tezuka for waiting for him, wherein Tezuka just nodded stiffly in reply and thanked high heaven that Echizen didn't notice his rigid posture), he ran to the nearest bathroom stall and addressed his aching needs.

And that had been the start of Tezuka's unusual "bladder" problem.

He blamed it on those toxic soap-and-citrus fumes.

Of course, Tezuka was still Tezuka, and his outward calm ensured that no one hardly noticed this outrageous change, except for Fuji and Oishi, obviously, although with Oishi, he had less reason to worry. He was quite sure Oishi simply thought that he was just suffering from a bad case of puppy love or something of the like.

But Fuji was always bad news.

So it was really no surprise that he felt his buchou senses tingling when Fuji sauntered over to him one day and unwittingly baited him in his diabolical scheme (to make Tezuka the most miserably repressed teenager with balls) with the following words:

"Echizen is the representative of his class for the English declamation contest."

Tezuka looked up from the book he was reading to glance at Fuji, after double-checking that all signs of shock were concealed in his appearance. "Oh. That's good." Good, his voice sounded normal. He tended to deviate from his inflectionless tone wherever Echizen was concerned. "Echizen must be very proud."

"Actually, he hated it," Fuji replied with a shake of his head. "He said he had stage fright. To which I said 'bullshit' of course." One corner of his mouth lifted in a half-smirk. "If Echizen has stage fright, I'll kiss Mizuki's toilet seat."

Tezuka had to agree. The freshman tennis prodigy was blessed with a very healthy ego, as evidenced by his cocky attitude on and off the tennis court, and his trademark 'mada mada da ne.' He earned himself a reputation of being a snarky brat because of it, but Tezuka didn't take it against him. The boy was barely thirteen after all, and he was simply acting his age. If anything, he found his bratty attitude quite endearing, in a strange, senpai-to-kouhai sort of way.

Fuji took Tezuka's silence as a sign to continue. "Well, eventually, I got him to admit his real reason for not wanting to take on the role."

"And what reason is that?"

"He can't act."

"Ah. I see." Tezuka wasn't surprised. If there was anything that he and Echizen shared, it was their inbred detachment, and natural instinct to conceal emotion. Though it didn't necessarily follow that he would act the same in make-believe situations, it would still be a challenge for the undemonstrative Echizen. "He'd better start learning how."

"Actually, he is," Fuji replied, his tone disturbingly casual. "Echizen started to work on it since there are only three days before the contest."

The curiosity Tezuka felt at this admittance was well-concealed with his response. "Well then, I wish him luck." With that, he resumed his reading.

The discussion was over, but apparently not for Fuji. He lingered around Tezuka for a few more minutes, his expression contemplative.

Tezuka adjusted his glasses. "Is there anything else you wanted to tell me, Fuji?"

"Ah." Fuji seemed to snap out of his thoughts, and he affixed his signature smile on his face. "I want to ask you if you could somehow help Echizen out with his ordeal. You know he's not prone to doing his best when he has absolutely no interest in what he's doing."

_This is unexpected_, Tezuka thought, one fine eyebrow raised in mild surprise. "And how exactly will I help him out?"

"Well, he's in dire need of an authority figure. You could perhaps, stimulate his interest in the matter," Fuji explained, looking at Tezuka intently. "It will greatly aid Echizen. He is the type of person who could do anything if he puts his mind to it."

Tezuka pondered on his answer. It was just a matter of convincing Echizen to take this contest seriously, wasn't it? Though he still couldn't shake off the nagging feeling that there was an ulterior motive to Fuji's presumably innocent request, his concern for Echizen far outweighed the possible consequences of subjecting himself to Fuji's schemes. Besides, Echizen was in this too, and he had a duty to protect him from whatever it was Fuji was planning.

With that settled, he nodded his head. "I see. Alright, I'll see what I can do."

Fuji's smile widened, and Tezuka could practically see the invisible horns sprouting out of his honey-haired head. "Thank you. Echizen will appreciate it."

Tezuka nodded and went back to his book, silently congratulating himself for behaving normally under Fuji's watchful eyes. Then a thought struck him. "Oh by the way Fuji," he called out, glancing sideways at the tensai, who was about to leave. "May I ask you something?"

Fuji stopped in his tracks and turned towards him. "Go ahead."

Tezuka cleared his throat. "Why are _you_the one asking me for help?"

Fuji tilted his head to the side, smiling thoughtfully. "Oh, didn't I mention it?"

"Mention what?"

"I'm supervising Echizen's declamation practices."

_WHAT?_

_-TBC_


	2. Chapter 2 Day 1, Director's Cut

**Chapter 2: Day One – Director's Cut**

"Echizen," Fuji called out to the first year, dragging a reluctant Tezuka behind him. "Tezuka just agreed to help you out. Isn't that wonderful?"

Echizen looked up from the notes he was reading and glanced at Tezuka, surprised, but pleasantly so. "Thank you, Buchou," he said sincerely.

Tezuka nodded. He still couldn't fathom why Echizen chose Fuji, of all people, to be his supervisor. The only logical explanation would have to be Echizen temporarily losing his mind when he made that decision. Or maybe Fuji was the one who volunteered himself. That sounded much more probable. At any case, he still had to deal with both of them, so it didn't matter. "In what way will I be of assistance?"

"Ah." Fuji turned towards him, smiling cheerily. "You just have to lie down and play dead, as Echizen's human stage props."

Tezuka blinked. He must've heard that incorrectly. "I'm sorry Fuji, but what did you say I was again?"

"You'll be Echizen's human props," Fuji repeated pleasantly.

Human props? Tezuka would've protested incredulously at this point, if he was the type who was inclined to do so, but since he wasn't, all he did was furrow his brow and say nothing. He was sorely tempted to reject the idea out of pure principle though, but he made the mistake of taking a glimpse at Echizen, who was looking at him with what Tezuka could only deduce as an earnest expression, his big, cat-like golden eyes wide and focused only on his (hopefully agreeable) acquiescence.

He stifled a sigh. It frustrated him to no end how he found it impossible to resist the little brat on anything, especially when said brat looked at him like that- with that incredibly alluring, petulant look that would make Tezuka feel like a total heel for even considering refusal. "Fine," he heard himself say, pinching the bridge of his nose. _You're mad, Kunimitsu._ "Just tell me what I need to do."

"Of course." Fuji smiled again and turned to Echizen. "Echizen, have you memorized the poem?"

"Yup."

"Good. Okay, then, let's get you to your places." Fuji's blue eyes scoured the ground critically before pointing to a spot a few meters to his right. "There. Tezuka, please lie down and don't move. Echizen, stand a few feet from Tezuka. You'll approach him gradually as you proceed with the poem."

Echizen and Tezuka complied, albeit the latter was still quite hesitant. Tezuka wondered what kind of poem would possibly require this kind of set-up.

As if reading Tezuka's mind, Fuji spoke up. "Oh, in case you're wondering Tezuka, the poem is Walt Whitman's Oh Captain My Captain." He winked. "Kinda fitting, isn't it?"

_Oh Captain My Captain_. Of course. Somehow, Tezuka felt that his particular participation wasn't sheer coincidence. Fuji was up to something. He could feel it in his bones.

But then again, what could be so difficult about lying down and keeping still?

* * *

"Try caressing his cheeks a bit," Fuji suggested, his sapphire eyes narrowed as he studied the two figures on the floor. "That ought to be more realistic."

"Okay." Echizen peered down at Tezuka, seeking permission. "Is that okay with you buchou?"

Tezuka had, for the past hour, been forced to refrain from reacting while Echizen fawned over him, touching him in various places in accordance to Fuji's instructions. As of the moment, he was in a very compromising position, with Echizen kneeling next to him, his arms on either side of Tezuka's head.

It was sheer torture to have Echizen groping him and not being able to return the favor. And Fuji knew it, the sadistic bastard. He swore he would run the tensai ragged with laps on the next tennis practice.

"Buchou? Is it okay?" Echizen repeated, when Tezuka didn't answer.

Tezuka forced his schemes for revenge out of his mind upon hearing Echizen's voice. "Er… yes…" He cursed himself for being caught off-guard. "Please proceed."

Echizen nodded then stood up, going back to his original post. Upon Fuji's signal, he began.

"_O Captain, my Captain! Our fearful trip is done;_

_The ship has weathered every rack, the prize we sought is won; _

_The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,_

_While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring:"_

He pronounced each word clearly, applying emphasis on select syllables. He performed gestures wherever it was needed, synchronizing his motor movements with his stationary ones effortlessly. The only thing that needed refinement was Echizen's facial expressions, which, while indeed improving steadily, were still a bit shy of convincing.

Tezuka had to hand it to Fuji, he sure knew his stuff. He had effectively infused emotion into Echizen's monotonous voice, an admirable feat. But this was not the time to admire Fuji's coaching skills, because Echizen was coming to the part that Tezuka both dreaded and anticipated.

Echizen walked towards him slowly. "O heart! Heart—"

"Stop!"

Echizen almost fell on the prone captain, as Fuji shouted just as he was kneeling midway.

"You know, Echizen, I was thinking," Fuji said, ignoring the dirty look Echizen threw at him (for in order not to fall on Tezuka, he leaned backwards at the last minute, making him fall on his butt instead) "It would be a lot more touching if you, ah,_ cradle _his head in your lap while reciting that verse."

Echizen's eyebrows shot to orbit at these words.

A tick popped on Tezuka's head. Now really, Fuji was being overdramatic. Tezuka had a hard enough time keeping his hands to himself with his head on the ground, where his potential view was limited to Echizen's face, and maybe his shoulders and part of his chest. Now it seemed that he'll be getting a scenic view of Echizen's crotch too.

Worse, maybe if by some freak accident, he just won't get a view. Echizen had a lot of gesticulations on that part and if Tezuka played his role of a corpse faultlessly, he'd have absolutely no control as to where his face was going to land.

Forget punishing Fuji with laps. He was going to wring Fuji's neck while no one was looking.

Echizen rolled his eyes, then repeated the verse, following Fuji's new instructions. As he felt his head, being lifted and placed on the partly-covered soft flesh of the freshman's thighs, Tezuka fervently prayed in his mind that Echizen's movements wouldn't warrant anything scandalous on his part.

"… where on the deck my captain lies, fallen, cold and—"

"Stop!"

Echizen's hand, which was caressing Tezuka's cheek at this point, came down hard, his nails almost scratching Tezuka's face. The freshman scowled at Fuji. "What is it now?"

"That last line is one of the most poignant bits of the poem," Fuji said, as he paced. "It's a great opportunity to totally flabbergast the audience with a heartwarming maneuver." He turned towards Echizen and waved his hand with flourish. "Let your voice crack a little on the words '…and dead.' Then pause for effect before giving him a light kiss on the forehead. "

_That was deliberate._ It didn't take half a brain to figure out that Fuji was purposely testing Tezuka—too see how far he could handle the situation before he snapped and transformed from stoic, taciturn Buchou to the implausibly horny El Capitan.

It was a remarkably underhanded set-up. Fuji had full control over everything. It never ceased to amaze Tezuka how Fuji could smile angelically and have the air of goodwill, while creating an arrangement that would allow him to manipulate any situation so skillfully. Right now, he and Echizen were but mere pawns for his amusement.

The tick on Tezuka's head grew more pronounced. Okay, that's it. He was going to strangle Fuji no matter how many witnesses were there.

Echizen seemed to disagree as well. "Fuji-senpai," he protested, "Isn't that overdoing it a little?"

"Why?" A small smile played on Fuji's lips. "Are you embarrassed to kiss Tezuka?"

The glare Echizen threw at Fuji could strip iron. "No, of course not."

"Then do it."

Echizen kept his withering glare on Fuji for a few more seconds before giving in, shrugging. "Che. Fine. But honestly, Fuji-senpai, do pirates normally act this sappy towards their captains?"

Fuji nodded vigorously, unruffled by the freshman's blatant impatience. "I'm positive. Men of old are very affectionate, you know."

Echizen still looked skeptical but he conceded nevertheless, turning to Tezuka. "I'm really sorry buchou, it must be so embarrassing for me to use you like this."

"I'm fine, Echizen, just do what you need to do. It's important that you learn these things," Tezuka asserted, before treating himself to one, selfish, quickly squelched thought: _Please keep using me, it's quite enjoyable. _He closed his eyes, hoping it would somehow clear his mind of his mundane ruminations- having mixed feelings on the matter was proving quite disadvantageous to his mental state.

"Okay." Echizen cleared his throat and began.

"O heart, heart, heart! O the bleeding drops of red! Where on the deck my captain lies, fallen…" He smoothed back Tezuka's hair—"…cold" He ran his thumb against Tezuka's cheekbone. "… and dead." With these last words, he dipped his head, the ends of his sea-green bangs brushing across Tezuka's forehead, as he brushed his lips on Tezuka's brow.

Electricity flowed through Tezuka's veins at that fleeting touch, and he couldn't help releasing a soft, barely audible sigh, one that he hoped didn't reach Fuji's sharp hearing. As for Echizen, well, frankly, he didn't care if he heard— it was meant for him after all.

The touch on his skin was agonizingly enticing and he couldn't stop his eyes from fluttering open.

Chocolate met antique gold. Both, for the most fleeting of moments, were unguarded… before natural instinct took over and the cold curtains of detachment sheltered them.

Echizen was the first to look away, perhaps because he remembered that he was still practicing his piece.

Or maybe not. But Tezuka was much too practical for wishful thinking.

He couldn't determine if having his eyes closed was doing more for his benefit or further tormenting him. On the one hand, he wouldn't have to deal with being mesmerized by the close-up view of Echizen's golden gaze or being astonished by the boy's unmasked facial expressions. But on the other hand, all his other senses had heightened dramatically at the loss of his sight. He may not see what Echizen was actually doing to him, but his imagination was doing a more than adequate job filling up for what his eyes couldn't provide. Every breath, every brush of his fingers, the scent of Echizen's skin so near to his lips, he could all but taste it, tantalized him and at the same time made him weak with cloaked desire.

He got the feeling that he would've sprung at the boy had Fuji not been there. As much as he hated to admit it, Fuji's presence was a necessary element of Tezuka's self-control.

He watched as Echizen slowly sat up straight and turned his attention towards Fuji.

Fuji's blue eyes were open and the smile tugging on his lips was one of genuine admiration. "Wonderful, Echizen," he remarked, clapping. "That was brilliant."

"Che. It was nothing."

Fuji folded his elbows on his knees and leaned forward. "So. How do you feel?"

Echizen blinked at him. "I'm supposed to feel something?"

"Yes of course. I for one, am quite touched with that last line. You guys looked very cute together."

Tezuka said nothing, although the words were melodic in his ears. Echizen just glowered at Fuji but he didn't say anything as well, which for Tezuka, was a very positive sign.

"So how do you feel, Echizen?" Fuji repeated the question.

Echizen shrugged. "Surprised."

"Oh. At what?"

"At the fact that I actually let you order me around like that."

Fuji chuckled. "Do you have a problem with that?"

The green-haired freshman crossed his arms and smirked. "Hn. Not yet."

"Good enough." Fuji smiled good-humoredly, then turned to Tezuka. "And you, Tezuka?"

Tezuka deliberated on his answer for a few seconds before coming up with his chosen word. "Moved," he decided, glancing at Echizen briefly. "You were very good, Echizen."

Echizen hung his head and mumbled his thanks, so that only Tezuka could hear. From Tezuka's favorable vantage point, it was obvious that the freshman was pleased with his compliment. Tezuka had to resist the urge to smile. Echizen was ironically most transparent when he was trying to appear unaffected.

Then Fuji spoke up. "I see. Hm, I wonder," he started, gazing placidly at the two of them. "By any chance, do those reactions have anything to do with the fact that you boys have made no move to break that very comfortable position?"

Of course, with the two being who they were, they didn't exactly jump away from each other, flustered, though they avoided each other's eyes as they both stood up calmly.

Fuji observed them for a few more seconds before his face broke into a satisfied smile. "Saa… those are very good reactions. Let's stop here then," he announced. "I think you've suffered enough for one day."

-TBC-


	3. Chapter 3: Of Death and Tears

**Chapter 3: Day 2 – Of Death and Tears**

The second acting workshop found the three in an empty clubroom, a few hours before tennis practice, with Fuji straddling a mono block chair, Echizen leaning against the wall and Tezuka sitting on the couch, the latter two waiting expectantly for the former's instructions.

Finally, after some moments of deliberation, Fuji leaned his arms on the chair's back, indicating that he had made his decision. "Okay, now that we've worked on your basic intonations and gestures, we'll move on to some advanced emoting."

"What kind of advanced emoting?" Echizen asked, folding his arms.

"I'm talking about tears of course," Fuji replied, matter-of-factly. "You need to make them feel your character's sadness and pain. Your basic intonations will build the tensions towards the tragedy of your situation, but in order to at the very least, hope that those tensions reach their own proper ends- which in this case are tears- you have to endure said tears yourself."

Echizen's eyes widened. "You're asking me to cry in front of an audience?" he asked disbelievingly. "You're nuts, Fuji-senpai, you know I can't do that."

"Yes you can," Fuji insisted. "It's very simple. All you have to do is think of the saddest experience you've ever had."

Echizen blinked at him before looking away. "I don't have a sad enough experience to cry."

"Oh really?" Fuji was suddenly in Echizen's face. "Come on, Echizen. Even you should have your own share of bad memories."

"No, I don't." Echizen leaned back touchily, not appreciating Fuji's uncalled for nearness.

"Not even one?"

"No."

"Fine. I guess I have no choice then." Fuji cornered Echizen, placing both hands on either side of the freshman's head, and leaning in to whisper in his ear. The action seriously irked Tezuka. "I'll just have to make one for you."

Echizen stared at Fuji as if he just suggested that they run home and kick Karupin for yucks. "No thank you, Fuji-senpai," he declined, wrinkling his nose disdainfully.

"Oh, but I have to." Fuji moved even closer, if that was possible, sandwiching Echizen against the wall, well aware of the menacing gaze Tezuka was throwing at his back. "How else can you learn how to cry at will?"

"I don't think learning that skill is worth having a traumatic experience, especially one from you."

Fuji looked at the freshman curiously, before smiling in understanding. "Ah, you misunderstood me, Echizen," he said, though he didn't pull back. "I meant, I'm going to make one up. A scenario for you to imagine." Then he closed the distance between their faces to the smallest possible space where skin still did not touch skin. "Though if you'd agree to allow me to tie you to a bed and rape you, that would be fine with me too."

The look on Echizen's face was answer enough, and if Fuji so much as glanced behind him, he would see that Echizen wasn't the only one who was not amused.

As if on cue, Tezuka spoke up, his voice holding a not-quite-hidden note of warning. "Fuji. That's not funny." He wasn't sure if he was speaking for himself or for Echizen, but that was beside the point.

Fuji smiled furtively and looked behind him. "Maa… I was just joking. No need to get all defensive, Tezuka." He stepped away from Echizen and headed back to his appointed "director's chair," much to Echizen's relief, paying no attention to the obvious displeasure of the Seigaku captain. "Fine then, a scenario will do."

Echizen stood with his back pressed against the wall for a few seconds more, before he walked away quickly and joined Tezuka on the couch, as if he expected Fuji to pin him on it again. Tezuka felt a small sense of satisfaction as Echizen inched closer to him like a little kitten searching for security from its master. He fought the urge to cuddle him like a kitten too.

"Ah… let's see… what would make you cry?" Fuji wondered out loud, looking at the ceiling as if it held the answers. A few seconds later, he snapped his fingers. "Ah. I have it."

"What?"

"Close your eyes first."

Echizen did as he was told, albeit warily. Mental images with Fuji as the painter never bode well with him.

"Now, clear your mind. Listen to my words and let them paint the image in your mind…"

The room was suddenly very quiet. Tezuka watched Echizen's face with fascination.

Fuji's voice rang clear amidst the silence. "Now, imagine your neighborhood. The usual trees, the kids playing in their backyards, the cars rolling quietly along the street."

He paused and observed the freshman's facial muscles, which had begun to relax. "Now, imagine Karupin, that pretty cat of yours," he continued. "Playing with a yarn ball in your front yard."

Echizen shifted slightly, but his eyes remained closed.

"The yarn ball rolls to the street. And Karupin chases after it."

Tezuka knew where Fuji was leading to and from what he knew about Echizen's attachment to his cat, he had reason to believe that Fuji's imagined tale would be indeed tear-jerking for the boy.

"Now, imagine Karupin pushing the ball towards your house. Imagine its pretty blue eyes following the ball, unaware of anything else."

Echizen bit his lip.

"A truck honks. Karupin is surprised to see a giant wheel looming before it. Its blue eyes widen, and before it can move…" Fuji paused for effect. "It is flattened to a gross mesh of blood, fur, and internal organs."

Echizen sniffled. "Karupin…"

"Now, imagine the road. With Karupin, the latest roadkill." Fuji watched as Echizen's eyes fluttered open, expecting shimmering tears.

However, it seemed that Fuji had miscalculated badly in his choice of words because Echizen didn't look like he'd be crying anytime soon. In fact, he looked rather smug. "Fuji-senpai, you suck. First of all, Karupin doesn't play with yarn balls. Second, Karupin only chases after things that breathe. And third he's a very smart cat and has sufficiently learned his lesson when he followed me to school one time."

Tezuka smiled inwardly. It was rare for him to see someone turning the tables on Fuji. Actually, he never saw anyone turn the tables on Fuji, never mind if this particular matter was but a frivolous victory for Echizen.

"Oh. Sorry, Echizen." If Fuji was ruffled by his mistake, he didn't show it. "Hmmm… I guess I'll try a different tactic." For a moment, he appeared to be deep in thought, before snapping his fingers again. "Ah. You and Momo are close, aren't you?"

Echizen shrugged. "That's one way of putting it."

"Well then," Fuji started, his expression somber. "How about if… say, Momo suddenly dies from food poisoning?" He simultaneously knocked on the table as he said this.

Echizen merely smirked. "Heh… that's even more improbable. Momo-senpai's stomach is made of titanium—probably a kind stronger than the material of our tennis rackets. He's more likely to get a disease from NOT eating food."

Fuji frowned pensively. "Mou… I never thought of that." He closed his eyes and fell silent as he continued pondering on a possible scenario.

Just as Echizen was about to call him to see if he had fallen asleep, Fuji's eyes flashed open.

"What about me?"

"Eh? What about you?"

"If I die from say, one of Inui's penal-teas? Will you cry at my funeral?"

"Fuji-senpai, you _like_ penal-teas," Echizen pointed out.

"Just because I like something doesn't mean it can't kill me," Fuji contradicted. "For example, I like cacti but if someone bodily throws me face first at my collection at home, I don't think I'll survive." He tilted his head at the freshman, his expression eerily serious. "So, if that happens, will you cry?"

Echizen just shrugged. "I'll be greatly disheartened at your untimely demise."

"Saaa… Echizen, I'm hurt. (Tezuka had to keep from releasing a snort on this one) You're clearly avoiding answering the question," Fuji half-complained, half-reprimanded, an almost believably wounded expression on his face. "Thus, I can only assume that your answer is no, you will not cry when I die."

"Hnn… you assume too much then."

Fuji just looked at him, his gaze piercing and unflinching. Echizen ignored him, looking away.

But Fuji was nothing if not intensely persistent. Even from five feet away, Tezuka could feel the laser-like blue gaze penetrating Echizen's jealously guarded personal space. He knew both boys well enough to determine the outcome and truly felt sorry for Echizen.

Finally, unable to take any more of Fuji's threatening silence, Echizen released a resigned breath. "Alright Fuji-senpai," he relented. "I'll cry when you die."

Fuji raised one corner of his mouth in a sinister half-smile. "You'd better make sure of that or I'll haunt your bathroom for the rest of your living days."

Tezuka noticed Echizen shiver visibly and did not blame him. The image of a ghost Fuji emerging from the bathroom sink, smiling a wide disembodied smile was indeed a very unsettling thought. In-the-flesh Fuji was bad enough, supernatural Fuji would defy description.

"But if you expect me to use that for the poem, you have another thing coming," Echizen added hurriedly, unwilling to let Fuji have all his way. "I can't imagine your death by cacti and recite O captain my Captain at the same time."

"Mou… fine. I'll let you have your way for now," Fuji acquiesced, the ubiquitous smile back on his face. This time though, he didn't appear to internalize anything before giving away his last example. "What about Tezuka?"

Tezuka's ears perked up at the sound of his name, before his eyes narrowed ever so slightly. What was Fuji up to now?

"I doubt he'll be anywhere near your cacti collection in the near future, Fuji-senpai," Echizen answered coolly. "Right Buchou?"

Tezuka nodded, agreeing whole-heartedly.

"No not that. Another, more serious, definitely more probable situation."

"And that would be?"

Fuji paused before answering, his expression taking a grave turn. "Would you cry, if you woke up one day… and read in the newspapers that Tezuka's plane to Germany crashed?" Another simultaneous knock on the table accompanied these words.

Tezuka refrained from glaring at Fuji, not at all at ease with the example. Nevertheless, he was very much curious as to how Echizen would react to that, and couldn't help watching the freshman.

Echizen was silent for a long time, obviously taken aback by the idea. He leaned back and studied the opposite wall contemplatively, occasionally glancing at Tezuka from time to time.

Then just as Tezuka was starting to feel the tinges of disappointment, Echizen caught his eyes and smiled.

"Heh… I can work on that."

* * *

Of course, having Echizen cry at will upon first try was a nigh-on impossible task (Tezuka would worship Fuji if he managed to pull that off) and Echizen predictably failed. Undaunted, Fuji kept egging the freshman on, assuring him after the seventeenth failed attempt, that he really was expecting too much of himself to get the act right at that particular time. Even after the thirty-fifth try, where Echizen nearly got a tiny tear out of his right eye but resulted to his flubbing his lines so badly, he ended up laughing instead, was well within a reasonable margin of error.

However, after the fifty-first unsuccessful shot, Fuji had to throw in the towel. He felt slightly disappointed at his lack of success, though he didn't mind it that badly. This was Echizen after all. The tiny tear that eventually leaked itself out of his right eye on the forty-third try was a glowing victory for him, never mind that Echizen still messed up his lines. He suggested that they pour tomato ketchup on Tezuka's face for a more realistic visual image, but Tezuka would have none of it. He also considered sneaking in some tear gas in the auditorium and letting it out in Echizen's turn, but Tezuka vetoed it quickly, claiming that Echizen wouldn't be the only one affected- the entire auditorium will break out in a sobfest as well.

"Mou, Echizen, this really isn't working out," he called out at the first year, who was practically on top of Tezuka gripping on to the buchou's collar in frustration. "Let's call it a day, tennis practice will start soon."

"No. I can do this," Echizen insisted, though he was already sweating profusely at his efforts. "Just… give… me… a few more seconds…" He sat up straight, closed his eyes and took a cleansing breath before repeating the lines he had been working on for the past hour.

"Hear Captain! Dear Father!

This arm beneath your head;

It is some dream that on the deck

You've fallen cold and dead."

At the last two lines, Echizen concentrated hard on the mental image of a dying Tezuka, his eyes slightly scrunched up as he tried his hardest to force tears out of his eyes.

Tezuka was starting to get worried. He had never seen Echizen hell-bent on learning something other than god-inspired tennis moves. And to think that it involved Tezuka's hypothetical _death_ , of all things. While he was thrilled that Echizen cared enough to cry for him, he didn't exactly find comfort in the fact that that the freshman had to kill him in his mind to accomplish that.

Of course, it was but a mere coincidence that Tezuka had no objections to the conditions he was being subjected to either.

A few seconds more and Echizen let out a small sound of defeat, dropping his head on Tezuka's torso, resigned. "… Crap. I can't do it."

Fuji watched amusedly as Echizen buried his head on Tezuka's chest in his aggravation. "Mada mada da ne, Echizen," he said, smirking. He _so_ enjoyed getting a rise out of this boy.

Echizen threw him his most venomous glare yet, before lifting himself up to a sitting position and sulking.

Smiling wickedly, Fuji walked towards him and knelt down, slinging an arm around his neck. "So, Echizen, want me to rape you now?"

* * *

Forty-five minutes later, the tensai found himself running an extra fifty laps at tennis practice.

-TBC-


	4. Chapter 4: Id, Ego and Libido

**Chapter 4: Day 3- Id, Ego and Libido**

"Fuji-senpai, don't you think this shirt is a little too thin and too tight?" Echizen uncomfortably tugged at the end of one of the sleeves, frowning.

Tezuka tried hard not to stare. _Thin? Why, his nipples are positively waving hello_, he thought, very much disturbed by the way his hormones were overreacting. His eyes raked over the ensemble of the first year. Echizen had on the following items: an earring on his left earlobe, slim-fitting long-shorts, a red bandana, a holster belt with a makeshift dagger, and of course, that infernally thin, tight, long sleeved article that wasn't so much a shirt as non-lace lingerie.

Truly Echizen was the cutest pirate he had ever seen. As of the moment, he was still debating on whether he was going to give Fuji another cactus for his collection for making him one very happy man OR sneak said cactus on his classroom chair just before he sits, for all the torturous ordeals he's pitted Tezuka through.

Maybe both, if he could get away with it.

"No, of course not, I think it suits you perfectly," Fuji said, smiling satisfactorily at his choice of costume. "Oh wait, I forgot to do something." He walked towards Echizen and tugged a bit at the collar. "Now, hold still." Then he proceeded to tear the shirt. With a scary looking Swiss knife.

"Fuji-senpai! What are you doing? Get that thing away from my throat!" Echizen's face paled uncharacteristically as he stared at the blade, which was lingering dangerously close to his skin.

"Hm? I'm not gonna hurt you Echizen, I'm just making your costume look a bit more… realistic." And Fuji proceeded to make a large slash across the shirt.

"FUJI-SENPAI!" The terror on Echizen's expression and voice was almost comical but one look on the disparity between Echizen's skin and the tip of the knife was enough explanation. "Can't I just take off the shirt so you can rip it apart without jeopardizing my life like this?"

Fuji withdrew the knife a bit. "Only on the condition that you continue practicing even without it on."

"That's it? Gladly." And Echizen proceeded to take off the shirt and shove it at Fuji, who took it gleefully before shooting Tezuka a provocative smile.

Tezuka ignored the tensai, for he was currently experiencing an ambivalent sensation of sorts at the sight of his little prodigy's lean, almost-developed torso. He remembered the shower-room incident and suddenly felt aggravated and extremely turned on.

It didn't help matters when Ryoma sauntered over to him with a nigh-on predatory gait in one of those, should-have-been-slow-mo moments, with Tezuka as his only-too-willing prey.

Then the golden-eyed genius spoke.

"Now captain, where were we?"

Tezuka was positive he could die at that moment. It didn't matter if Echizen meant something entirely different from what the Seigaku captain was imagining, nor that Echizen's voice bore its usual, uncaring drawl. In Tezuka's state of mind right now, Echizen's words might as well be an open invitation for some locker-room canoodling and his tone could very well be a purr.

Thankfully, he was spared from replying when Echizen answered it for himself.

"Oh… yeah, in 'My captain does not answer." He then proceeded to kneel down and take Tezuka in his arms, as the scene required it. But instead of reciting his lines, he gazed intently at Tezuka, his eyes unusually reflective.

"Ne, Buchou."

"Hm?"

He bit his lip. "You don't mind that I've practically molested you for these past three days do you?"

_I do but not in the way you think._ "Of course not," he answered, more surprised by the bluntness of the question than the question itself. "You're not molesting me Echizen, you were just doing what you needed to do."

"Ah. Would you mind then if… if…" He paused and looked off to the side, uncertain.

"If what?" Tezuka prodded, very much curious now.

Echizen opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by Fuji.

"Enough chatter you two. Echizen, please begin."

"… Hai, Fuji-senpai." And Echizen proceeded with his lines, as if the private conversation between him and Tezuka never happened at all.

_What was that all about?_ Tezuka wondered, as he closed his eyes, resuming his role. He didn't get to think on it for long though because Echizen had just started with the poem and was already on the move.

"O Captain, my captain! Rise up and hear the bells;

Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills;

For you bouquets and ribbon'd wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding;

For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning:"

Was it Tezuka's imagination or were Echizen's actions not quite as innocent as they should be? There was a notable change in the way he moved, the way he played his role with much more refinement and just the barest hint of what suspiciously resembled… sultriness.

"My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still…"

Like the way Echizen traced Tezuka's lips with the pad of his fingers...

"My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse or will…"

... like the way he gently clawed at the inside of Tezuka's wrist, nails creating a certain friction on Tezuka's suddenly-sensitive skin—it made Tezuka wonder if there was a direct line of neurons from his wrist to his groin.

"The ship is anchored safe and sound, its voyage closed and done…"

The way Echizen's breath created a path of high-strung nerves on Tezuka's chest, traveling up and anchoring on his chin, the region so close to his own breath, it ached so much not to be able to taste him.

"From fearful trip, the victor ship comes in with object won…"

Tezuka fought hard to curb the sudden sharpness of his breathing . What on earth did Fuji feed Echizen to make him this… deliciously enchanting? He now couldn't distinguish between the supposed effect of the poem and the effect of Echizen's touches.

"Exult, O shores, and ring, O bells…"

The sensations drove Tezuka to near-madness. He could practically imagine smirking chibi-neko Echizens flying around his head and scampering across his pelvic regions, mocking him and his desperate attempts for self-control. He could feel his loins tightening and was immensely grateful he had the foresight to wear his loosest trousers to school that day.

"But I with mournful dread…"

The sensations intensified its grip.

"Walk the deck my Captain lies.."

It burned, white-hot, to the near-point of bursting.

"Fallen… cold… and dead."

He couldn't take anymore of it. In a flash, his eyes opened, his hand shot up and-

-caught tears.

_What the-?_ He looked at the wetness in his hand and then at the face looming above him. A sheen of crystalline tears glassed over the golden spheres, falling intermittently on Tezuka's cheeks. The pain in Echizen's eyes looked so real, so tangible it almost made Tezuka forget that this was just an act. He couldn't place a finger at what exactly he was feeling right now.

Surprise couldn't begin to describe it.

Shock was too mild, too lacking a word.

Wonder? Close, but not enough.

Perhaps there was no word for it. What he knew was, it left a pleasurable warmth in his gut, whatever it was called and that it was certainly the first time he had felt good upon seeing someone's tears.

He only realized he had been caught gaping when Fuji's silken voice suddenly assailed his ears. The tennis genius was looking directly at him, for some odd reason, his blue eyes twinkling with satisfaction. "Beautiful. Simply beautiful." He then directed his gaze at Echizen. "Echizen, you never cease to amaze me."

Tezuka hurriedly composed himself, even though he knew it was too late. He had finally construed Fuji's criteria for Echizen's acting prowess. The more reactions Tezuka showed, the higher Echizen's score.

And right now, it seemed that Echizen had just gotten a perfect ten.

"How did you finally get that right?" Fuji queried curiously, leaning forward.

"I practiced yesterday in my room," Echizen answered, sniffling, as he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. "It hurt my chest a lot though. And my eyes went all puffy."

"Ah well, that's understandable," Fuji asserted, smiling consolingly. With another knowing look at Tezuka, Fuji leaned back against his chair and held out the creation he had been absently working on. "Here, wear this now. Then, let's take the whole poem from the top."

Without another word, Echizen then gently placed Tezuka's back on the ground and walked off towards Fuji, grabbing the expertly tattered shirt and pulling it on. When he turned to face Tezuka, the guarded, bored expression was back. The only sign that he had been crying were the damp trails on his cheeks where the tears flowed.

A switch. That was how Echizen worked. Within the tennis courts, he switches from self-assured arrogance to passionate determination and back so quickly it almost seemed automated.

Tezuka had no idea that this trait stretched beyond the tennis courts. He had to admit, he found this flexibility soundly appealing. But then again, his noisy libido reminded him, what about Echizen didn't appeal to him?

A tap on his shoulder interrupted his thoughts. "If you want to take a bathroom break, Tezuka, go ahead," Fuji offered. "I'll take your place while you're gone." He smiled encouragingly as he said this.

Tezuka of course, knew better. He pretended to adjust his glasses, feigning nonchalance while fuming inwardly at Fuji's obvious baiting. "I'm _fine_."

For a few minutes, the steely-eyed tensai gazed at him with what seemed like a combination of skepticism and provocation. "Saa… if you say so," he said, shrugging. He stood up and walked back to his seat. "Alright Echizen, it seems that latest style I taught you has been most effective." He smiled sinisterly. "I insist you use it for the entire poem."

He didn't need to look back to know that the trap just snapped closed.

* * *

After another hour of practice, Fuji approached Echizen, who was now laying spread eagle on the floor, the bandanna covering his exhausted eyes, while Tezuka chose a very comfortable spot on the couch, complete with a throw pillow on his lap.

"Echizen," Fuji asked in a serious tone, kneeling beside the still freshman. "Are you ready?"

Echizen didn't budge in his place. "Maybe."

Fuji smiled, though his eyes remained open. "You've exceeded my expectations. I see no reason why you shouldn't do well tomorrow."

"Hn."

"Don't disappoint us."

"I won't."

For a minute, the sounds of Echizen's breathing filled the silence. Tezuka refused to talk to Fuji for fear of giving the tensai more fuel for his pitiless snaring and Fuji didn't seem to mind.

Fuji, on the other hand, was perfectly content with the knowledge that he had made the great Tezuka Kunimitsu squirm. He knew there would be hell to pay for his actions in the next months of tennis practice but Fuji wasn't going to let a few hundred laps get in the way of this momentous event.

After some time, Echizen removed the bandanna from his eyes, blinking to adjust to the light. Then he turned towards his two senpais, a small smile on his pixie face. "Thanks Fuji-senpai, Buchou. I owe you both."

"Saa… it was our pleasure. Right Tezuka?"

Tezuka nodded curtly. He still couldn't find it within himself to verbally agree with Fuji without wanting to hurl a sharp object at him. The past hour had been the most hellish and the most god-sent time of his meager fifteen years of existence. He counted six hard-wrought attempts to physically restrain himself, five near kisses and one nasty premature hard-on… before Echizen did one of those breathy, feather-touch maneuvers, after which he lost count and poured all his concentration into clinging on to whatever sanity he had left. It was a miracle he hadn't started foaming at the mouth yet.

And it was all Fuji's fault. Well fine, Echizen was the one who performed all those titillating actions but if Fuji didn't teach him that then his mind would still be functioning normally, and the little guy in his pants wouldn't be in excruciating agony right now.

Echizen stood up and threw on his Seigaku jacket to cover his ridiculous costume. "Thanks again," he repeated, picking up his things. "If everything's done, I'm leaving now." He then headed towards the door.

Fuji suddenly grabbed Echizen's arm, just as the latter passed him. "Just a minute Echizen. I think I'll take you up on that favor you owe me."

Reflexively, Tezuka's eyes narrowed and he turned to regard Fuji, who was then sporting his trademark cryptic look.

Echizen lifted one eyebrow. "Now?"

"Yes."

"Okay." Echizen sighed and turned to him. "What do you want?"

"Later. We're gonna need a little… privacy for that." The tip of Fuji's tongue swept across his lips as he said this.

If Echizen noticed this immodest gesture, he didn't show it. "Fine." Then he turned to Tezuka, whose mind had just recovered from the implications of Fuji's actions. "How about you Buchou? What do you want?"

_You._ While he had anticipated the question, Tezuka refrained from answering truthfully and simply shook his head. "You don't have to give me anything."

Echizen smirked. "I know I don't have to give you anything but I want to give you something."

"It's okay. Really." Tezuka couldn't fathom how in the world his vocal chords managed to keep refusing when every nerve in his body was angrily shaking fists at him and calling him a moron. He cleared his throat. "The satisfaction of having aided you in your endeavor is thanks enough."

Echizen stared at him for a few more seconds before shrugging. "Have it your way." He shouldered his bag and turned towards Fuji. "Come on, Fuji-senpai, the sooner I get your favor over and done with, the better."

"Excited, aren't we? I'm flattered that you're so eager to please me, Echizen."

"In your dreams, Fuji-senpai."

"Saa… let's go then. I know just the place." He looped his arm around Echizen and glanced at Tezuka who was preparing his own things. "Bye, Tezuka. Pity you didn't take advantage of Echizen's offer. You don't mind if I take it for you, do you?"

Echizen scowled at Fuji. "Fuji-senpai, you can't take Buchou's favor just because he didn't ask for one."

Fuji feigned disappointment. "Oh fine. I'll just maximize what you owe me then," he assented. Then just before they headed out, Fuji let the other shoe drop.

"I hope you have enough strength to do what I want you to do, Echizen," he said, his lips curving into a devious smile. "Because you're in for a rough night."

With that said, Fuji flashed Tezuka one last saccharine smile before dragging Echizen out the door.

Tezuka was stunned. That exchange had too much baggage not to be ignored. Though he was quite certain that Fuji was just leading him on, it didn't make his jealousy quail any less.

He frowned and sat back on the couch, pondering things over. He understood Fuji's habit of making people suffer first before conceding to their wishes. Though he earned a reputation of thriving on other people's misery, frequently toeing the line between playful and malicious in his conquests, his ultimate intentions had, more often than not, been for his friends' best interests.

What he couldn't understand, was Echizen. How he seemed to be so comfortable with Tezuka one second, then tagging after Fuji the next.

Tezuka was fairly sure that fickleness wasn't among the likely traits the boy possessed, but with the way things were going right now, he was quite hard pressed to still agree.

Then he remembered the switch. Suddenly, it didn't sound so appealing. At least as far as Tezuka was concerned.

And as to where Echizen's real designs lay… he'd know soon enough.

Right now, a certain part of his anatomy reminded him, he had a libido to check.

-TBC-

* * *

Post A/N: Now why did this chapter not come out as I planned it? There wasn't supposed to be a "Fuji vs Tezuka" part here but for some reason, my fingers seemed to have developed a mind of its own and vomited this extra junk. Ugh. This is still a _purely_ TezuRyo fic though, Fuji's simply being his usual sinister self.

Has anyone noticed that there's an influx of hyphenated words in this chapter? I'm running out of adjectives so I just string some up. Hehe. And yeah, Tezuka's a bit OOC here, especially in the thoughts department. Hehe. Sorry, can't help it. I so love poking the beejesus out of him.

Chapter title came from an ad from the Pandemonium 2 game.


	5. Chapter 5: The Day of the Declamation

**Warnings: **Some degree of OOC-ness, SHOTA, and REALLY BAD POETRY. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

**Chapter 5: Favors**

All the Seigaku regulars had come to watch Echizen declaim. Momoshiro and Kikumaru were no doubt relishing the opportunity to gather potential blackmail material to use against the freshman. Inui brought along his usual green notebook, prepared to jot down any relevant data on Echizen's profile. Kaidoh was there, but only because Inui dragged him along, supposedly, until Momo loudly revealed that he saw Kaidoh marking the event in his planner during their shared homeroom class .(Kaidoh punched him in the face for that but Momo said it was worth it). Oishi came prepared with a good supply of tissues, tearfully rejoicing in Echizen's giant step towards a higher EQ. Kawamura had brought another sushi coupon as a gift for Echizen. And Fuji, of course, had obligated himself to be a one-man documentary team and brought an SLR camera, a light meter, two studio stand lights, three tripods, and three camcorders. How he managed to set up all those things in a span of thirty minutes in a quite crowded auditorium eluded everyone's guesses.

And then, there was Tezuka.

The team had prime seats, care of Fuji, smack in the center front row. They waited excitedly as the lights dimmed and the emcee came out to greet the audience and introduce the contestants as they take their turn.

Then the contest began.

There were six declamation pieces in all, some of which included How do I Love Thee, by Elizabeth Barett Browning; The Spider and the Fly by Mary Howitt, The Road not Taken by Robert Frost, and of course, Echizen's O Captain, my Captain by Walt Whitman.

Echizen was the last contestant. When his turn came, Oishi turned to Momoshiro and Kikumaru, who had fallen asleep sometime during the speech of the second contestant, and shook them awake.

"Huh? Wha—Oh, it's Echizen's turn…" Momoshiro yawned and rubbed his eyes, earning him an affronted look from the contestant who just finished.

When Echizen emerged from the wings, Kikumaru released a loud cry of delight. "WAAAAIIII, there he is!" he bubbled, bouncing in his seat. "UNYA! Kawaii!"

"Hey, Echizen has an earring!" Momoshiro noted loudly. "Fuji-senpai, how did he get that?"

Fuji smiled serenely. "Oh well, incidentally, there was a hammer and some thin nails in the costume box so I thought, since Echizen's going to act like a pirate, he might as well experience how pirates complete their looks."

The rest of the team sans Inui and Tezuka looked at Fuji, horror-struck.

Fuji chuckled. "Kidding. It's a clip-on."

Everyone visibly breathed a sigh of relief then turned to watch Echizen, who looked quite surprised to see all his senpais gawking at him from the front seats. Kikumaru and Momoshiro were being particularly annoying as they imitated some of his fangirls, making goo goo eyes and blowing kisses at his direction shouting stupid things such as:

"Ryoma-sama! You look absolutely dashing in those princely rags!"

"Oh take me away with you Ryoma-kun!"

If eyes were shuriken, Kikumaru and Momoshiro would be human shiskebob. Of course, the two disregarded this and just screamed louder.

"Ooh, it's that sexy scowl! Did you see that Eiji-senpai? He scowled at me! Isn't that the cutest thing you've ever seen?"

"KYAAA!" Kikumaru and Momoshiro mimed jumpy hugging. "We love you Ryoma-kun!"

Tezuka ignored the antics of his teammates, leaving Oishi to settle things. His eyes were focused solely on the lone figure onstage. Echizen had stopped glaring at his two immature senpais and had settled himself on his position on the stage, waiting for his introduction.

The lights dimmed and a yellow spotlight focused on Echizen. After the formal introduction, Echizen started.

_"O Captain, my Captain! Our fearful trip is done;_

_This ship has weathered every rack, the prize we sought is won;_

_The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,_

_While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring:"_

He approached the imaginary captain and knelt down, performing his actions and delivering his lines as if Tezuka was really there on the stage with him.

_"But O heart! Heart! Heart!_

_O the bleeding drops of red_

_Where on the deck my Captain lies,_

_Fallen, cold and dead."_

Echizen's low husky voice broke, along with his expression. He paused for effect before standing up to deliver the next stanza, his voice immediately gaining momentum.

_"O Captain, my captain! Rise up and hear the bells;_

_Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills;_

_For you bouquets and ribbon'd wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding;_

_For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning:"_

Echizen genuflected and cradled an imaginary Tezuka in his arms. Tezuka felt an inexplicable rush of emotion at the gesture, his mind flashing scenes from their past practices. It didn't hurt to remind himself that it was he, Tezuka Kunimitsu, that Echizen was imagining to be with him onstage. Tezuka watched with rapt attention as Echizen flawlessly carried on with the poem, his voice breaking and gaining strength at the right words, his movements and gestures defined and hiding nothing. Tezuka practically felt Echizen's fingers tracing his skin, the warm breath tickling his forehead, even though they were several meters apart.

_"Hear Captain! Dear Father!_

_This arm beneath your head;_

_It is some dream that on the deck_

_You've fallen cold and dead."_

Tezuka was blown away when tears suddenly trickled down Echizen's cheeks, unchecked. He heard some sniffling beside him and was not surprised to see a teary-eyed Oishi holding a fistful of tissues to his eyes. Momoshiro's mouth was agape while Kikumaru, who was unconsciously holding on to Momoshiro's arm, looked unusually serious. Fuji, unsurprisingly, didn't stay put on his seat and was roving around, his camera never seeming to leave his hands.

_"My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still;_

_My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse or will;_

_This ship is anchored safe and sound, its voyage closed and done;_

_From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won:"_

Maybe it was just the lights or something, but it seemed that every time Echizen turned towards the audience's direction, he was looking straight at Tezuka.

_"Exult, O shores, and ring, O bells!_

_But I, with mournful tread,_

_Walk the dead my Captain lies,_

_Fallen cold and dead."_

When he finished, the crowds were silent. Whether it was because they were awed by Echizen's delivery of the piece, or shocked that Echizen Ryoma had portrayed emotions so realistically, to the point of actually shedding tears in front of an audience, was irrelevant. There was no question as to who won the contest.

Then Tezuka stood up and started clapping. Soon after, a roaring applause broke out.

Oishi was blowing into what seemed to be his fifteenth piece of tissue and simultaneously handing the tissue box to Momoshiro and Kikumaru, who were oddly enough, sobbing into each other's arms. Inui scribbled furiously in his notebook. Kaidoh didn't move, his arms folded across his chest, but the blush on his cheeks was a giveaway sign of his heartfelt admiration of Echizen's performance. Kawamura, who had somehow gotten hold of a racket, was standing on his chair, shouting. "BURNING! ECHIZEN, YOU ROCK BABY!"

As for Fuji, he had simply stood to the side, smiling gleefully as he snapped pictures of the team in this state of disarray.

* * *

Tezuka wearily climbed the steps leading to his bedroom. It had been a long day, one that didn't conclude auspiciously. Since he was no longer within the scrutinizing eyes of the general public, he didn't bother to conceal his downed spirits, his eyes downcast and his gait unstable.

He was quite disappointed that he didn't get to spend time with Echizen after the performance. He and Fuji had mysteriously disappeared after the awards ceremony. When Tezuka asked where they were, Oishi mentioned something about Echizen having prior plans, and Fuji tagging along to accompany him on said plans.

Something on Tezuka's expression must've seemed out of place, because Oishi hastily added, "I'm sure they're just hanging out or something. Perhaps Fuji wanted to congratulate Echizen personally for his performance… or… " His assuasive smile faltered as he saw Tezuka's unchanged demeanor. He bit his lip and sighed. "I'm not being reassuring am I?"

Tezuka just shook his head. He felt pathetic, allowing his jealousy and self-pity to get to him like that, and quickly countered it with his inflection-less tone. "It doesn't matter. I'm going home."

He wouldn't put it past Fuji to be the type of person who'd present his one great wish on a silver platter then snatch it away from his fingertips saying 'Ha! You can't have him!'

With that last thought in mind, Tezuka swung his bedroom door open.

"It's about time you got home."

Tezuka 's heart jumped to his throat. Grabbing the first thing his hands could reach, he whirled around, the object raised in front of him.

A familiar snicker resounded from the bed. Suddenly pale yellow light flooded the room, as the lampshade on his bedside table glowed to life.

Tezuka squinted, his eyes adjusting to the intrusion of light, and he blinked a few times, before finally landing on the trespasser on his bed.

He couldn't wipe the surprise from his face even if he tried.

Echizen sat tangled in his navy blue cotton sheets, still donned in that ridiculous pirate costume of his. He glanced at the thing in Tezuka's hand, one fine eyebrow raised. "Are you going to use that on me?"

Tezuka looked at the object his hands: Jergen's Original Scent lotion. iOops./i He quickly put it back on the table. "Er… no, sorry. I didn't know it was you." Then after schooling his expression so that it betrayed none of his thoughts, he cleared his throat and turned towards the younger boy. "How did you get in here?"

"I scaled the walls and opened your window with a crowbar," Echizen answered, shrugging. "It was a cinch."

Tezuka blinked at him, confused.

Echizen sighed impatiently. "Your mom let me in. Fuji-senpai accompanied me here and introduced me to her."

"Oh." Tezuka took a few seconds to digest this new information. Then he remembered the first question he should've asked. "What are you doing here?"

Echizen scooted towards the edge of the bed. "Remember the favor Fuji-senpai asked of me?" he asked, tilting his head. "Well, this is it."

Tezuka lifted an eyebrow. "He told you to scare me half to death in my own bedroom?"

"No, he told me to come here and deliver my own version of O captain my Captain to you."

Tezuka just stared at him.

Echizen released another impatient breath. "Just lie down on the bed and watch me," he instructed. "And don't laugh."

Not one to be ordered around, especially by his own kouhai (never mind that Echizen was the same person who happened to be the stuff that makes his daily morning wood extra painful), Tezuka remained rooted to his spot. "Since when did you have your own version of O captain my Captain?"

"Since yesterday. It was Fuji-senpai's idea." Echizen made a face at this. "You're not dead here, of course. But you need to lie down."

"Ah. I see." Tezuka's brow furrowed. "And you are going to recite it to me, because…?"

"You'll understand in the end." Echizen leapt off the bed and patted it. "Can you lie down now? I want to get this done as quickly as possible."

Though Tezuka was still baffled as to where Echizen was getting at, he complied, deciding to withhold his questions till after Echizen was done with… whatever it was he was going to do.

Echizen didn't even wait til Tezuka had finished making himself comfortable before starting. climbed on the bed and stood up on the mattress, swaying slightly as he tried to catch his balance. "O Captain, my Captain, " he began, his face looming over him. "…My great ordeal is done. The crowds have cheered and clapped and left, the prize I sought is won."

He then approached Tezuka, his legs on either side of Tezuka's torso, giving him a wonderful view of the boy's tightly clothed nether regions. "The time is near, your breath I hear, steady calm and waiting." He genuflected on his left leg, keeping just the slightest distance from Tezuka's body, reaching out a hand to touch the side of Tezuka's face. "While follow eyes your soul's appeal, my own soul grim yet daring."

Then to Tezuka's utmost relief, Echizen stood up again, the mattress bouncing slightly with the force. "But O heart… heart… heart! O the bleeding drops of red. Where on this bed, my Captain lies…" He gently bent down on one knee and ran a finger on Tezuka's lips. "…with feelings left unsaid."

The truth that lay therein in Echizen's poem tugged at the strings of Tezuka's heart and he looked away, not trusting his eyes not to belie his internal turmoil. He wondered briefly if the freshman knew. It would certainly make sense, with Echizen being unabashed with this strange, yet arresting engagement.

Tezuka's breath caught in his throat as Echizen suddenly swung one leg on his other side, practically straddling the older boy. "O Captain, my Captain, rise up and heed my pleas. Rise up- for you I raise my voice, through you I win release." He lowered his torso in an angle calculated for barely visible distance as he held Tezuka's cheeks in his hands, his soulful feline eyes looking straight into Tezuka's own. "For you I'll bear the sadist's schemes, ingenious ways and cunning. For you I'll fall, down on my knees, my eyes all glazed and wanting."

The words themselves were breaking Tezuka's cool demeanor with the blunt sincerity in which Echizen said them.

For a moment, he was suffused with the urge to pull Echizen down and shut him up with a strategically well-timed oral maneuver but he quickly quelled it. Though it tore him apart to listen to Echizen (because deep within him, Tezuka knew that he should be the one saying these things to the young tennis prodigy), he was mildly curious as to what other wonders the poem might reveal.

Echizen slipped a hand under Tezuka's head and rested his other hand on Tezuka's collarbone. "Here Captain, dear Buchou… My arm beneath your head," he said softly. "Break not my heart, your feelings have…" He shifted his hand higher, his fingers feeling the pulse on the crevice beneath Tezuka's ear. "…Not fallen cold and dead."

The once fleeting touches now lingered enticingly on Tezuka's skin, and all Tezuka could think about was Echizen's graceful, feline body and how his own wanted it. The ordeal was torturous, but deliciously so. He was pretty sure Echizen now must have an idea of how much he was affecting the normally expressionless captain. Strangely though, that was the least of Tezuka's worries.

"My Captain, won't you answer? Are your lips too parched, too still?" He ran his fingers down and along Tezuka's arm, stopping on Tezuka's knuckles. "My Buchou, don't you feel my heart?" He lifted Tezuka's hand and placed it on his chest. "Have you lost all hope and will?" His voice gained volume, with a note of beseeching desolation attached therein. "These words I speak, straight from my soul, as bright and real as the sun. As pure and gentle as the moon, who reigns when day is done."

Tezuka could feel his defenses slipping. The subtle lilt to Echizen's tone, the inbred huskiness of his voice, the enthralling strokes of his fingertips, all but made him lose coherence of thought. Echizen was _that_ good. Tezuka never knew poetry could be so powerfully seductive.

"Hold still, dear heart, this piece is done." He finally settled himself on Tezuka's pelvis, lying halfway atop him, as he placed his hands on either side of Tezuka's head. "Only one thing left unsaid." He lowered his face a few more inches, peering down at Tezuka piercingly. "All my desires and hopes O Captain…" His voice dropped to a mild whisper, thick with emotion. "Let in my eyes be read."

Echizen's eyes were strangely vulnerable, uncertain and flickering with an undecipherable emotion that Tezuka couldn't quite place for the moment. After some time, he broke eye contact, the intense gaze overwhelming him, and he focused his gaze on the boy's lips. They were moving closer.

He felt Echizen's lips a moment before they met his own. The kiss was sweet, chaste and unassuming, qualities that were the exact antithesis of Echizen's personality. However, despite this striking disparity, Tezuka didn't think it odd at all. It seemed right, somehow.

As the kiss went on, the alarms in the back of his head sounded, and he knew it was a matter of minutes before he gave in.

But Tezuka was nothing if not rational, even in the face of works of devils like Fuji. He didn't forget that little bit of information. Gathering all fringes of rational thought, he steeled himself when Echizen pulled away, and looked straight into his eyes. Then before his courage fled, he spoke. "You're not playing around with me, are you now, Echizen?" he questioned, hoping his tone didn't betray his premature nervousness.

Echizen's eyes widened, obviously taken aback. "Why would I do that?"

Tezuka kept his expression straight. "You told me yourself that Fuji was the one behind all this."

"Yeah. So? You think Fuji-senpai's just hacking around with you?"

"I wouldn't put it past him."

"Hn. I understand. I'll be suspicious too if I were you," Echizen admitted, bouncing slightly on his perch, causing an unwanted ripple of tingles up Tezuka's torso. "But no, sorry. I'm not playing around. Were you expecting me to?"

Tezuka didn't say anything.

Echizen smirked. "Che, Buchou, Fuji-senpai was right. You do have an insecure side."

"Is insulting me part of the plan too?"

Echizen's brow furrowed. "Where did that come from? Honestly Buchou, you'd think that after I looked like an idiot spouting poetry to you, you'd appreciate my efforts, but no, you still think I'm playing around."

"So you're not?"

"After all that… " Echizen sighed in disbelief and removed the bandana from his head. "Buchou. I like you. Okay? That poem's just a really fancy way of saying it—as well as a way to get Fuji-senpai's favor over and done with. Yes, I know it sucked, as my English isn't exactly poet material—and because I have to at least keep the formalities in the original poem, but I meant every single cheese-filled word."

Tezuka had stopped listening after Echizen mentioned the words "I like you," and could only look blankly at Echizen, who was looking at him expectantly. For some reason, his mind lingered on those three little words, refusing to process anything beyond that.

Echizen Ryoma liked him. Fuji could hack around all he wanted but _Echizen Ryoma liked him_. And that was worth _everything._

It was only when Echizen pounced on him and kissed him so hard, they practically sank into the mattress did Tezuka reel back from his delighted trance and focus on the present.

And of course, just as Tezuka was about to return the kiss, Echizen broke away.

"Mada mada da ne, Buchou. Do you get the picture now?"

"Nn."

"Good." Echizen peered down at him with alluring half-lidded eyes. "Now let me ask you a question and be honest with me." He leaned an inch lower, his breath teasing the nerves on Tezuka's chin. "Do you like me?"

Tezuka's throat felt strangely parched as he answered. "Yes."

"Ah." Though Echizen was confident enough in his approach, his eyes betrayed relief. "Care to describe just how much?"

Tezuka leveled the challenging look on the freshman's face with an unyielding expression of his own. "Why don't I just show you?"

Echizen smirked, leaning back slightly. "Heh… Please do."

Tezuka fought back a smile. This was it. The moment he had been agonizing over for god-knows-how-long.

However, to his credit, he didn't rush, despite being driven by painful, strong compulsions. A methodical person by nature, he found nothing wrong with applying his organization to this more intimate sphere. The first thing to do, was to remove the unnecessary components.

Tezuka's fingers traced the ripped contours of the thin shirt, running across the outline of one fine nipple before settling on a particularly large opening.

Echizen could only shiver in delight as he felt the garment get stripped of his body. The rush of cool air and the sound of ripping cloth heightened his senses, and he shifted edgily in anticipation.

Tezuka smiled satisfactorily, as he carelessly tossed the ruined shirt to the floor. He had always wanted to do that.

Now that the boy's chest was very much open for exploration, the next thing to do, was… was…

His eyes traveled from the bud-shaped mouth to the enticingly graceful neck then to the flat porcelain chest, unsure of which to attack first.

Screw methodology, he decided eventually, and switched gears from thinking to doing.

In a blink of an eye, Echizen was catapulted to the other side of the bed with Tezuka lying halfway atop him, with the captain's hands and lips roaming everywhere on his body.

"Now that's more like it," Echizen whispered as he closed his eyes, and allowed himself to melt under Tezuka's ministrations.

"I thought you were doing all that because Fuji asked you to," Tezuka murmured into his ear, as he simultaneously ground his hips against the smaller youth's own.

Echizen gasped at the jolt that Tezuka's fluid motion educed, and barely rasped out his response. "Do… I look, ah… like Fuji-senpai's personal slave to you?"

Tezuka shook his head, a little more vehemently than necessary, disturbed by the very notion of it. "Of course not. I won't allow it." Then as if to emphasize his point, he gently bit on the junction of the boy's neck and sucked on it, well aware of the mark it would create.

"Unghh…good…answer." Echizen buried his face on a nearby pillow to stifle his moans as Tezuka moved further south and teased one rock-hard nipple with a skillful tongue. Pleased with the reaction, Tezuka continued, his tongue tracing a wet path of warmth across Echizen's chest.

It could've been seconds, it could've been minutes, but sometime during their intense make-out cum heavy petting session (and just as Tezuka had succeeded in getting a hand inside Echizen's pants) Echizen suddenly planted a hand on the older boy's chest, stopping Tezuka from further devouring him.

"So, Captain," he spoke up, panting slightly, his eyes brimming with mischief as they stared up at Tezuka's still wanting ones.

"What?" Tezuka clearly didn't appreciate getting interrupted.

Echizen grinned. "I assume you want to take me up on that favor now, don't you?"

Tezuka allowed the barest hint of a wicked smile to grace his face. He glanced fleetingly at the general direction of the dresser.

"Aye."

-Fin-

* * *

A/N: Suffice to say, I had a field day coming up with Ryoma's version of O captain my Captain. I'm sorry about that sucky other poem, but hey, what do you expect from a thirteen-year-old who only thinks about tennis? ::ducks rotten tomatoes:: For those classic lit fans out there, believe me on this one: I did not intend to bastardize Walt Whitman's masterpiece (although I fully understand if you feel that I did) This has got to be the most inane piece of drivel my coffee-contaminated brain has ever come up with. OMG, I'm so sorry for subjecting you guys with it. Go ahead, pelt me with tennis balls.

**Edit:** Just found out that the poem represents Abraham Lincoln. I have absolutely no background on American History so uh, I'm really sorry. I feel even worse. I AM SORRY WALT WHITMAN PLEASE STOP ROLLING IN YOUR GRAVE.

But wait, what's this? Fuji-muse is complaining that there's not much of him in this chapter? Hmm. Alright then, let's fix that.

Here's a little extra everybody.

EXTRA EXTRA EXTRA EXTRA EXTRA

Setting: Tezuka's room, approximately an hour later (or at least after the time it takes for Echizen to fulfill Tezuka's favors )

"Ne, Buchou, I just remembered something."

"What is it?"

"I think Fuji-senpai's still in your bathroom."

"_What?"_

"I didn't expect you to return home so soon. I pushed him into the bathroom a few seconds before you opened the door."

"Do you mean to tell me that Fuji might just have seen us doing…"

Choked silence.

"I think so. I was so caught up in my acting and… well, all that happened after that, that I forgot all about him."

"…"

"Are you mad? I'm really sorry."

"… Fuji, if you're hearing this, please step out."

A second. Then two. Then three. Then..

Bathroom door creaks open. "… My, my, Echizen, that was very generous of you."

"Fuji-sen—"

"I never doubted that you can pull it off but this is way more than I bargained for. I never imagined you'd both be so vocal in bed."

"Fuji-sen—"

"Oh, and Echizen did you know that Tezuka uses the same brand of shampoo as yours?"

"Fuji, that's enough. If you don't mind, I'll appreciate it if you kindly show yourself out."

"Of course. Sorry for the trouble. Bye Echizen." :: sadistic chuckle ::

"But Buchou—"

"Echizen, please, not another word until Fuji is satisfactorily out of my house."

"Fine." :: sulks ::

After five minutes…

"Can I talk now?"

"You just did."

"Hn. Fuji-senpai has a camcorder in his bag."

"What?"

"And he most probably taped us doing it in your bed."

More silence. Then…

"You'll be the death of me Echizen Ryoma. Any more disclosures and you're going to recite to me the original version of the poem."

"Don't say that Buchou. I truly am sorry. Are you mad at me?"

:: Pause :: "…No, it was an honest mistake."

"Then everything's okay?"

"No."

"Then you're really mad at me."

"I didn't say that. Everything is not okay, but I'll let it go. It may take some time getting used to but it's not worth wasting breath over."

:: hug :: "I'm so glad you think of it that way."

Fifteen minutes (and a lot of heavy kissing and other… more interesting maneuvers) later…

"Ne Buchou." :: cuddles ::

"What is it now?"

"Can we get a copy?"

-CUT!-

* * *

Okay, I'll stop now.


End file.
